


Once His Passion, Now His Prison

by biqueuerious



Category: Fake AH crew - Fandom, Grand Theft Auto V, Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Angst, FAHC, Fake AH Crew, GTA V AU, Gen, Horror, Paranormal, Violence, fake achievement hunter crew - Freeform, ghost ray au, gta alternate universe, gta v - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-17 11:26:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9321410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biqueuerious/pseuds/biqueuerious
Summary: Two years ago the most notorious gang in Los Santos lost one of their very own. Ray the sharpshooter, once untouchable nested on the city's rooftops, meets his demise one evening on a simple mission. Mystery surrounds the assassination of their crew mate. Nevertheless the Fakes press onward, hiring new faces and maintaining their title. It isn't until a new recruit starts hearing voices from the sealed bedroom next door that the past is put into question. Soon enough, they're discovering that some members have more answers than others.





	1. Prologue

The crew didn’t dare touch Ray’s room. But there was a spare one next to it. And that’s where Jeremy sleeps. Well, at least attempts to. He swears to them he could hear an Xbox turning on and off at night. Or muffled sounds of a video game. But no one believed him. Until one night he records evidence; sounds from the computer in Ray’s room. “Let me out… Let me out!” playing over and over on a loop.

And Michael’s petrified. It’s Ray’s voice from an old prank video they recorded years ago when he and Gavin shut Ray in the closet of the old base.

The Lads want to perform a seance. Geoff want’s to move, right now immediately. Jack gets her way, and so they finally crack open their late friend’s room and begin packing his things. Nothing of Ray’s is to be left in the room.

Months go by until Jeremy is able to sleep peacefully again. Soon the crew forgets about the whole incident.

Until, that is, Gavin drops a quarter in the hallway and it rolls under the door into Ray’s room. Without thinking he busts into the room and is startled to see it completely empty. Completely, except for Ray’s purple Nintendo 64 sat upside-down in the corner.

“Must'ved missed it,” he thinks. And he reaches for it. But instead of taking it to Jack he’s lingering with the thought of starting it up. His broke a long time ago, and Ray always kept things in working order.

So it sits in his room until the weekend when he’s free. He dusts it off and hooks it up with all his old wires. He clicks in Ocarina of Time, and ' _bloody hell, it works!_ '

But hold on, did Ray ever play Gavin’s game? There’s a profile in the load screen titled “Ray”, and he’s not going to lie, it’s a bit eerie. He wants to tell Michael, but what good would that do? He’ll just tell him to quit it and throw it out.

He enters the profile and it takes him to the naming screen. He hasn’t played for years, but he knows that’s not how it works. The cursor moves without Gavin touching the controller. And it types.

“HELP ME”


	2. Chapter 2

“Fuckin’ kidding me aren’t you?” Gavin reached over and swiftly flicked off the power switch. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5… on, just like he used to. His heart started to race when he made it to the load screen and saw that the “Ray” profile was still present. And again it brought him to the naming screen;

•HELP ME•

Gavin swallowed, mouth dry and oddly out of breath. “Alright alright this isn’t funny Lads,” he panicked. The TV glitched when he reached for the switch again. 

•its me•

Sweat started to form on his lanky hands. His skin is turned a pale white. He’s petrified. 

•Ray•

“This _isn’t_ funny,” Gavin said more sternly. He finally threw the switch off, sparing no time unplugging every wire. A harsh kick sent the N64 under the bed.

* * *

“Mornin’ boi,” Michael sputtered through a cheek-full. 

He scrapped the last of his cereal out of his bowl as Gavin sauntered into the kitchen. Tired and sluggish, the blonde wordlessly grabbed a bowl and poured his own. “You look like shit,” Michael adds, chugging the milk in his bowl before throwing it in the sink. 

Without eye contact, Gavin sat opposite of Michael and scowled into his bowl. Moments of heavy silence pass. 

“Fine, sulk you fuck. Dunno what’s got you so pissed off this morning,” Michael flipped him off and turned to walk away. 

“What were you on about last night imitating Ray like that? Fucking foolish that was, disrespectful even…,” Gavin huffed and took a spoonful. 

“Excuse me? Who you talkin to I didn’t do shit!" 

"Then who bloody did, Jeremy?”

“I literally don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!”

“Last night I-,” Gavin trailed. “I dropped a quarter Wednesday and it rolled into Ray’s room. I went after it and saw we missed his N64 when we sent all his stuff to storage. So…I took it and I hooked it up last night…," 

Gavin sighed and settled his head into his hands. Gentle rubs flushed his cheeks. "Couldn’t bloody sleep all night after what happened…”

“What… _did_ happen?” Michael asks in a hushed tone. Just before Gavin spoke, Jack walked in. 

Both knew to be silent about this around Jack. She freaked pretty bad when Jeremy said he was being contacted by their late crew mate. All it took was a beckoning glance to get Michael to follow Gavin out of the kitchen. 

 "Good morning you two,“ she called after them. 

* * *

Sunlight washed over the floor of the room and the sheets on Gavin’s bed, easing the bright glow of the TV screen. Gavin laid on his stomach across his bed and Michael sat on the floor at the foot of it. 

•HELP ME• As it said before, typed out without any human interference on the controller.  

Michael wrinkled his nose. While he was always skeptical of the paranormal, he had to admit he’s never seen something like this happen before. If their old friend really was talking to them from beyond the grave, how could he ignore that? 

"I’m going to write something,” he mumbled, taking the controller off the floor. 

After a moment of thought Michael looked at the screen and keyed “Who?”

Then they waited.

•its me•

•Ray•

A sharp breath hitched in Michael’s throat. He glanced back at Gavin, who was wringing his hands and avoiding the screen. “That’s what it said before,” he said. “So you’re not fucking about…” he mumbled after some silence. 

“Why would I?” Michael said. He shifted uncomfortably and gripped the controller tight. “This is weird Gavin,” he mentioned, deleting the text. “I don’t like it.”

“How?” Michael entered. The text cleared again and the cursor blinked. 

•Trapped• The word was typed very slowly, almost hesitantly.

“I want to turn it off Michael,” Gavin’s voice cracked and he reached over his friend’s shoulder. 

Michael grabbed his wrist. “No way, asshole! You started this by sticking your big nose in Ray’s room in the first place. And then you dragged me into it, so now I gotta know." 

"This is mental! Look what we’re doing, messing about with the paranormal and all that. Let’s just get rid of it. Wrap it up. Bung it in the river I don’t give; it’s bloody mental just mental!" 

"Would you shut the fuck up!” Michael gave Gavin’s face a few taps. “You want Jack to hear us? She really will throw this thing out.”

“Let her!" 

"What if he’s really in there?” The question hung in the air for a beat. “What if… we could…,” Michael chewed at his lip as he fell silent. 

Gavin rubbed his tired eyes. “There’s no way Michael. Even if somehow he was… It won’t bring him back. God… I miss him as much as you do Michael. But he’s gone. You can’t bring him back through a damn video game.”

Painful silence hung between them. Michael shook his head and turned his attention back to the screen, the controller still in his hands. “If you don’t want to do this, whatever. If it’s all a joke or we’re fucking going crazy, _whatever_. My friend might be in there. _Our_ friend might be in there…,” he deleted the text. “Just let me drag this out. I want answers.”

Pondering the next question took him a few minutes. He figured the most important question he wanted answered was “Who kill”

Seconds turned into minutes that felt like hours. Again, the response that came was hesitant. 

•Dunno• Immediately the text deleted. 

•2 slow•

•Laptop•

* * *

Oil stained sneakers tapped on the concrete floor. Music blasting, tools and parts strewn everywhere. Cool autumn breeze swept leaves inside. Jack was indulging in her Saturday past-time. She was modding Geoff’s newest vehicle. 

When Michael and Gavin walked into the garage she rolled out from under the car and wiped her brow. “Good morning again boys.”

They were short with her, giving a wave and a brief hello before shying away into Michael’s truck. 

“Where are you two going?”

Gavin gave Michael a glance. “Bit of driving yeah? We never have time to catch up, him and I,” the Brit placed a firm hand on Michael’s shoulder. He nodded in agreement, trying to hide the guilt on his face. 

Tension hung in the air. The redhead was the only obstacle between them and the garage door. 

“Alright,” she finally chimed. A motherly smile wiped across her face. Without suspicion, she moved out of their way and towards the workbench. Michael revved up the engine and gassed it out of the base. 

Jack’s smile left as quickly as she put it on. She rang Ryan on speed dial. “I need you to do me a favor…”


	3. Chapter 3

Los Santos flew by them at 60 miles an hour. The sound of traffic and Gavin’s shaking leg filled what could have been a silent ride. 

“Something wrong?” Michael mumbled. 

Gavin immediately retorted with a huff. “ _Something wrong_ , you’re havin’ a laugh,” he mocked. “She’ll find out if she hasn’t already. Jack’s the brightest I know. She’s having none of this, that woman.”  

“So what? She’ll kill us?”

The ride fell silent until they reached the storage facility. Once arrived, they made their way to the front desk to request a key.

“Hey,” started Michael. A young man, probably no older than 19, was lounging behind the desk. His feet were propped up and his large headphones blasted music so loud it should deafen him. “ _Hey_!” Michael slammed his hands onto the counter. 

Unfazed, the teen pulled back the headphones and asked, “Last name?”

“Uh,” Michael hesitated. “Pattillo.”

“ID?”

“We’re picking up for a friend,” Gavin chimed in. 

The teen shrugged and keyed the name into the computer. A wave of discomfort brushed over his face. “That… there was some complications with your storage. It’s been moved.”

“Why?” Michael asked, a bit irritated. 

“Spooky shit, man. The night it got dropped off our computers started bugging out. It was our only delivery that day so, we knew it was your junk,” He turned his back on them and looked for the key on the wall. “Called an IT guy, said it wasn’t a virus or anything. Also said he’s never seen equipment like our act the way it did. Anyway, didn’t get put far though, just away from all our systems. After that, everything was fine,” he handed Michael the key. “It’s in A1. Far left corner of our lot. Been vacant for years until now.” 

“…Thanks,” Michael looked at the key in his hand before turning to leave, Gavin at his heels. “This is getting weirder and weirder,” he mumbled on his way out. 

* * *

When they reached Michael’s truck a familiar figure emerged from behind it. “Ryan?” Gavin startled. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” he warned. His arms crossed his chest. “Forget about this. Go back to the base.”

“Did Jack send you? What do you know?” Michael stepped forward. 

“I know you’re after Ray’s stuff,” he stated. “I know about his N64 in your room, Gavin.”

“What did you do with it?” A hint of anger caught in Gavin’s throat. 

“Nothing. I just came here to stop you from digging up the past,” he walked closer, keeping an open stance. “We buried this, let it rest. We all had our time to grieve. Now… it’s time to go home,” Ryan motioned at Michael to hand over the storage key. 

Michael glared at Ryan. “We never buried Ray… we never saw his body,” He stepped closer. “ _You_ did. You were with him, weren’t you?” Silence rolled between them. Fists clenched. “There’s something you’re not telling us, Ryan. What do you know?”

“I said, forget it Michael,” Ryan said firmly. 

“No! I want to know the truth! You’re right, we all did our grieving. We all mourned our friend. But only one of us was with him to see him go and that was you!” he jabbed an accusing finger at Ryan’s chest. “And then you disappeared. And when we found you we said nothing. No one asked questions-… I let you heal on your own time, but what about me!” Michael grabbed Ryan’s shirt collar and shook him, tears forming in the corner of his eyes. “Where’s my closure?! Tell me what happened to Ray!”

Ryan tensed, a hint of remorse lingering on his face. He looked down his nose at Michael, thinking, choosing his words carefully. “Ray didn’t… he was alive. _Barely_ alive. There was nothing that could be done to save him.” 

“Who killed him?” Michael growled through his clenched teeth. 

“I don’t know…” Ryan whispered. 

A beat of silence passed them. Gavin hesitated, ”…We think Ray is trying to talk to us. He’s trapped in his technology. He sent us to come for his laptop…“ The more Gavin spoke of it out loud, the worse it sounded. But Ryan wasn’t in disbelief. "Ryan… what did you do with Ray?” Gavin asked. 

Ryan closed his eyes, the pit of his stomach sinking. “I did what any of us would have done,” he sighed. 

“ _I let him go_.”

* * *

Blood dripped from Ryan’s mouth. He laid there, propped on his elbow and he spat onto the asphalt. A string of profanities echoed through the parking lot of the storage facility. Gavin tried his best to keep Michael’s arms behind his back. 

“You killed him! You murderous _fuck_ you killed Ray!” Michael cried. Hot tears streamed down his face. “How could you?! He was our friend how could you _how could you_ …?!“ 

Sickening knots twisted in Gavin’s stomach. He couldn’t even look in Ryan’s direction. He didn’t know what to think. He didn’t know what to do. As soon as he let his grip on Michael weaken he fell to his knees. Numbness spread to his fingertips. 

"Michael, please,” Ryan tried to reason. Michael tumbled on top of Ryan and struck him in the jaw again, and again, and again. More blood was coughed up. “I… I deserve this…,” he sputtered, finally getting a chance to speak. Michael sat back on his heels, panting, with tears blurring his vision.  

When the air settled no more words were spoken. Just as quickly as things kicked off, their moment turned serene. Afternoon was shifting to evening. Ryan struggled to pull himself out from under his assailant. Slowly he made his way to his motorcycle, coughing and dragging his feet. 

He mounted the bike and gave the lads a glance. “There’s… nothing I can say to justify what I’ve done,” They didn’t respond. “I’m so sorry Michael,” he barely managed. Rage still seeped out every pore of Michael’s being. He glared up at Ryan, who tilted his head towards the key on the ground between them. The engine revved up and he drove away.

They listened for him to disappear. Half an hour of stillness calmed the energy in his system before he was able to speak again. “That kid’s gunna be off work soon,” Michael eventually mumbled when he pulled himself together. He snatched up the key and walked to his truck. Thoughts swirled around in his head, but he stopped himself before the anger bubbled up yet again. “Hey c'mon,” he called to Gavin as he slid into the driver’s seat. “Let’s go get what we came for. 

* * *

Minutes later the two were ruffling through storage container A1. Their late friend left behind much in the ways of technology, and less of anything else. Thanks to Jack’s expertise everything was packed away neatly: consoles, handhelds, cellphones (yes, he had many), and of course, his laptop. Just one, but included with a plethora of hard drives. Ray may have kept his room a mess but his hard drives were labeled and sorted to the file. 

"This is all we need,” Michael spoke in a hushed tone. From the moment they pulled up to the storage unit he had goosebumps. He grabbed the box, but when he turned to leave he felt Gavin’s hand on his shoulder. 

“We can’t go back to the base, boy,” Gavin said without looking at him. “Either Ryan will be there or he won’t. And if he isn’t, Jack might have a thing or two to say to us.” He sighed and gave Michael a solemn smile. “We’ve gotta end this on our own, yeah?”

Michael returned the gesture and nodded, “Then you know where we need to go?”

“Right,” Gavin said. “I hope Dollface has been keeping the place nice for us.”


	4. Chapter 4

“It’s been two years Gavin!” A second strike to the face left his cheek stinging. “ _Two! Years!_ And then you show up and ask to be invited inside like you went out for a walk, _how dare you_?“ 

"Turney! Turney please I’m s- EY!” He caught her hand before she was able to slap him again. “I’m sorry, love! Alright? But can we talk about it later? It’s… we’re in a bit of an emergency." 

He glanced back at Michael, who was hovering in the door frame of their old apartment. The two lived there years ago when they ran as a duo. They went their separate ways when Michael met Lindsay and Gavin, Meg. Destiny proved they worked best together when they both became members of the Fakes. 

"Michael! _Darling~_ ,” Meg’s tone shifted and she pushed her way past Gavin, embracing Michael in a friendly hug. “It’s been far too long dear, too long!” She smiled and patted him on the cheek. “Thanks for the birthday flowers Micoo, _I adored them_.”

“You sent flowers to my girlfriend boy? And, wot? Only I’m allowed to call him Micoo!”

“ _Former_ girlfriend,” Meg snarled. “And at least one of you hasn’t forgotten about me!”

“Don’t be like that love, I still texted you and-”

“Uh,” Michael interrupted, awkwardly balancing the box in his arms with Meg still around his neck. “It’s nice to see you again Meg but… like Gav said we’re in a bit of a situation.”

“Oh!” She eyed the box, releasing Michael from her grasp to read the label. “Yes well, that’s… those are Ray’s things…” Michael nodded and he stepped into the apartment. 

Meg shut the door behind him. “What are you two doing with his things?” The box was set on the kitchen counter and Michael started unpacking. Gavin peeked through the blinds out onto the city. Distant police sirens echoed through the streets and he couldn’t help but wonder if the crew was causing trouble tonight without them. 

Neither of them wanted to answer Meg, but when Michael hooked the laptop up to power he realized he had to wait for it to charge. “Long story short our dead friend might be in this laptop,” he sighed. He glanced at his hands, dry blood cracking off his knuckles. His stomach began to knot when he thought about his fight with Ryan. “It’s not fair,” he mumbled. “He just… laid there…”

Gavin turned to look at him. “You should go clean up,” he said, joining them in the kitchen. “It’ll take a bit for that thing to start. I’ll call you in as soon as it does.” He patted Michael on the back, gently ushering him towards his old room. 

When he disappeared around the corner, Gavin turned to Meg. Comfortable silence blanketed them. Just the muffled sound of the city’s night filled the apartment. “Really am sorry love,” Gavin started. “The day I ran off it was… well,” he glanced at the laptop. 

“I know,” she said, wrapping an arm around him. “I know how close you two were. The Fakes… they’re like your family now. I can imagine it was easier to grieve with them than away from them,” she gave a sad smile. “That night though, I was just as scared as you were. If someone got just one of you, I was afraid that-… well, it’s awful selfish of me, isn’t it?" 

"No, course not,” Gavin breathed. “We were all scared, Dollface,” he pecked her on the cheek. “We lost Ray. I didn't… I couldn’t leave them knowing how quickly I could lose anyone else. Especially Michael who gets a little more than angry when he’s afraid. And you,” he rubbed a thumb across her cheek. “If someone really had it in for us, I couldn’t let them know how to hurt me the most.” Gavin shined his cheeky smile, making Meg giggle.

“Now you know I’m more than capable of protecting myself, Gavin.”

“Of course you are,” he chuckled. “But none of us are immortal, love.” His smile disappeared when he saw the red battery light turn green in his peripheral. 

“Michael!” He called. Following the prompt he keyed Ctrl + Alt + Delete. The login screen flashed into view and for a second Gavin saw Ray’s face in his profile picture. Tears nearly welled up in his eyes. He hadn’t seen him in so long. But as quickly as it was there it was gone; the password entered in at inhumane speed and the desktop replacing the view. 

“How did it do that? You didn’t even touch the keyboard,” Meg gasped in disbelief. The cursor moved on its own and clicked its way to the Notes application. 

“I’m telling you, it’s him,” Gavin whispered as Michael flew into the room. 

‘HELP ME’

The three held their breaths, all gathered around the laptop staring at the monitor. 

‘It’s me, Ray’

* * *

Commercial break came on between programs. Jeremy glanced at the clock, it was 7:30 PM. Gavin and Michael were usually there with him, cracking jokes and watching TV. 

Usually… but not tonight. 

Bored and distracted, he switched off the television and went looking for Jack, who should be in her usual spot at this time; smoking on the balcony. 

“Hey,” Jeremy called when he slid the balcony door open. “Any idea where Gavin and Michael are?”

Jack took a long draw of her cig. “Not a clue,” she said passively. Smoke swirled and danced into her hair. Jeremy figured she didn’t want to be bothered, so he turned to leave. 

“Jeremy,” she stopped him. He paused and peeked his head pass the door. A wave beckoned him closer, so he obliged and joined her side. They leaned on the cold concrete wall that framed their view of the city. “I trust you’re back to sleeping well?” Jeremy nodded uncomfortably in response. “Good good,” she said, glancing at her phone. Jeremy could see for a half second that she was texting Ryan. She pulled away before he could catch any of the conversation. “You didn’t know Ray very long, did you?" 

"Uh… no, not really,” his hand reached for the back of his neck. “No more than a couple weeks. He never talked much,” the pit of Jeremy’s stomach felt void. Why was she asking about this all of a sudden?

“He was a good kid. He had so much to live for,” her face was turned away from Jeremy, but he could tell by her voice. She was crying. She dropped her cig and stomped it out. Now that he thought about it, he never saw Jack smoke until after Ray passed away. 

“He never deserved what happened to him. If I could do anything over I’d… I’d rather…,” her voice trailed off into soft sniffles. Jeremy wrung his hands. Jack was always so cheery and confident, he couldn’t stand to see her like this. What’s worse is that he couldn’t even share her pain. 

After moments of standing by her side he found the courage to hug her. “I’m so sorry, Jack. I’m… I’m sorry,” Jeremy’s voice was muffled by her shoulder. When she began to breath steady again she pulled away. 

“No dear, you have nothing to be sorry about,” she breathed, gingerly wiping the tears from her cheeks. “I only hope you never felt like you were replacing him. You’re someone entirely new.“ Any trace of sadness brushed away from her face as the crisp wind blew past them. To the unknowing, she looked happy. Jeremy’s seen enough of Jack to know her motherly facade. "You’re very special to us, Jeremy. And I can speak for everyone when I say you hold a special place in our hearts." 

”…Thank you. Thank you very much Jack,“ a smile tugged at Jeremy’s lips. 

They stood there watching the city in silence until Jack’s phone gave a soft buzz. She checked it and frowned. 

7:55 PM   
 **Ryan:** I’ve lost them. Went to search. Will be back at the base in the morning.   
 **Jack:** Leave them. Please come back now, we have work to do. 

8:00 PM   
 **Jack:** Ryan…

Jack turned to Jeremy, who had taken a seat on the balcony lounge and began to drift off. "Hey, why don’t you go inside before you catch a cold?” She shook his shoulder and followed him inside. They went to their separate rooms. 

8:02 PM   
 **Jack:** Ryan I’m serious come back.   
 **Ryan:** I can’t do that Jack.   
 **Jack:** Why. Not. 

8:05 PM  
 **Jack:** Ryan I swear

8:15 PM  
 **Jack:** Turn on your phone’s GPS, Ryan. 

8:45 PM  
 **Jack:** So help me God in 5 minutes I will have the whole city swept to find your ass!  
 **Ryan:** I’m so sorry Jack.   
 **Ryan:** I had to go visit him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm loving this work more and more each time I work on it. I want to know what you guys think too! Please leave comments with your criticisms, reactions or speculations. Thank you very much and enjoy!

"This isn't real, right? You guys are playing a sick _fucking_ joke!" Meg had herself as distant from the laptop as possible. She searched Michael's face for answers, then Gavin's, who was trying to console her. 

"That's what I thought too love, at first. But we'd never."

"How did this happen? Is- is he a ghost? Is he still alive?" Meg's questions were frantic. 

Gavin chewed at his lips. "It started a few months ago. Jeremy couldn't sleep, said he was hearing voices. Well, Ray's voice..."

He trailed on with the explanation. Michael couldn't hear any of it. His attention had been glued to the laptop for the past hour and a half, baggy and bloodshot eyes from the strain. Deaf to all but the whir of Ray's laptop. He was getting his answers.

First it was news articles. When he got access to the wifi the laptop took over from there. "Famous Fakes Lose Member", "Los Santos Gang Wounded", "LSPD To Investigate Sudden Gang Death?", "Mysterious Vigilante Strikes Down Notorious Gang Member". Web page after web page pulled up. 

The Notes app full-screened. The first thing Michael asked was, "Prove you're Ray." 

'Videos hard drive'

Michael blinked. He dug his hand into the box and rifled around before he found the requested hard drive. He hooked it up and waited. Minutes of inactivity passed as he bit his lip in anticipation. 

Suddenly the screen was flooded with video files, all laid out like a grid. Each window scrubbed to a different time, adjusting as if it was searching. When it was done, the notes app pulled forward again. 

'Please believe me...' 

The words reflected in Michael's watering eyes. A beat passed before Notes closed. All composure was lost when the first video began to play and he saw Ray's smiling face, animated and full of joy. His sobs distracted Meg and Gavin, who quickly joined his side. 

'Hi guys this is Ray from The Fakes!'

Michael heard his voice and grabbed his heart. Tears were streaming down his face and he was hiccupping. "Ray," he breathlessly choked. "Oh god Ray I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm so _so sorry_..." 

The video paused and the next one played. 'Uh, hey! It's been a long time since we've all got together-'

'I don't know what happened! One minute I was there and-'

'Aw, you guys are so great. I love you-' Gavin held Meg tighter. This video was of Ray's birthday. He remembers filming when they surprised him with a mound of White Castle burgers that had "Cake-Less" written on it.

'-wish I could help, dude. Hey, it's not your fault-' | 'Sorry! I missed the-' | 'Last heist of the season, folks.'

Meg turned away. This was too much for all three of them. 

'I'm still here, I'm still here! Hey don't-' | ' _~Cry me a river, cry me a river~_ ' | 'As your friend, I trust you-'

The last video played. It was scrubbed to the end where Ray waved at the camera with a smile across his face. All of the tabs closed and Notes opened once again. 

'Find my DS’ Ray typed out. ‘I'm in there'

Gavin wiped stray tears from his face and typed. "How did this happen? Where are you?"

'Last thing remembered, water. It was cold. Lookout. I could see a light. Very bright light."

"I don't... I'm not sure what he means," Gavin mumbled, weary and ready for defeat. He shook his head and moved away from the computer to help Michael from the kitchen floor to the sofa. 

Meg stared at the response a minute longer. "I... I know where he is."

* * *

 "I know where he is," Geoff sat in his office with Jack over his shoulder. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, having just been woken up. Most of the time he didn’t care if a crew member or three had run off. Happens every other month, but they're always back. But when Jack explained that Ryan mentioned Ray, Geoff's interest was piqued.

As he remembered it, Geoff assigned Ray and Ryan to work together that night. The two had a specific chemistry between them that lent their combined skills to a job well done. It was a simple part of the mission: blind ambush. All calculations yielded results where a surprise attack would be non-lethal on their end. After that night... Geoff started letting Lindsay plan their heists. 

What threw him was that there was no gunshot. No screams. No panic. One minute they were stationed and ready to attack, then the coms went static and silent. No communication for hours. Originally everyone thought they had lost them both. They didn't find Ryan until late the next morning.  

He said nothing. He _did nothing_. For the next few weeks afterwards he didn't talk, make eye contact, sleep or eat. No one asked what happened because no one thought they needed to. Ray was gone. And Ryan watched it happen. 

Over time Jack tried to subtly let him know that it wasn't his fault. That there was nothing he could do. But all efforts were met with blank stares or ghosted smiles. It took a full year for Ryan to pull himself out of his cycle. By far, he wore his grief the longest. 

It wasn't until Jeremy mentioned his sleepless nights that Ryan shut down again. Jack didn't notice then, but thinking back she never saw him when they packed Ray's room up. She never talked to him in the couple days it took to move everything to storage. Again, it wasn't unusual to see the crew disappear between missions. But after then and now, with all the correlation between Ray and the lads acting up, she had her suspicions. 

"Where is he?" Jack asked. Geoff cycled through the city's camera feeds a third time, just to be sure he tracked down the right motorcycle. Ryan knew every camera in the city, but there were some he just couldn't avoid. 

"Last I see him is heading North on the freeway, towards the water. Goes cold after he passes the airfield," he points to the map. "But if what Ryan said was true, if he buried... if he says he's visiting Ray, there's only one place down here I would think he is." Geoff's finger drags and points at the shore. 

["Cape Catfish. The lighthouse."](http://gta.wikia.com/wiki/El_Gordo_Lighthouse?file=Ajmelgordolighthouse.jpg)

* * *

Wisps of their breath hung in the air as they stood outside Michael's truck. The three had made the drive to Cape Catfish, parking off road, a distance not too far from the house on the hill. This lot had no residents for years, the last being an unstable young woman put in the news once or twice. No one has touched the house since her death, or so it was thought. 

Gavin was restless, jumping from foot to foot and rubbing his frigid hands together. Meg kept her hands tucked under her arms. She looked at Michael, who didn't bother with a coat. Who didn't bother with the _speed limit_. 

Michael, whose blood was boiling as he stared at the light filtering through the windows. He grit his teeth and approached the front door, the other two quick to follow. 

" _Ryan!_ " He bellowed. The door gave way under his foot and landed in pieces, kicking up dust as if everything was left undisturbed. Ryan was on his knees, still bloodied and bruised from earlier that day. Floor boards were ripped up behind him.

Their eyes met and the world seemed to still. Heavy breaths escaped Michael's lips as he pulled his pistol from his waist. Screams of panic behind him were dulled into nothingness. The sounds of car screeching to a stop outside faded into white noise. It was just him and his target in this moment when he cocked the gun. 

Ryan didn't move. Ryan didn't flinch. Ryan was numb, and he too, heard nothing.

"I'm so sorry, Michael," he barely spoke, "I deserve this..."

Two quick thunderous claps echoed into the night and broke the silence free.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Though I'm returning to school tomorrow, I hope to update every Sunday! Thanks for the support and kind words; I love reading your reactions!

Geoff's eyes were closed, an ever present look of irritation gracing his face. The smoke at the end of his shotgun wicked away in a gentle breeze as two shells hit the floor. "You are all... fucking fired." He mumbled.

Michael's pistol had dropped from his hand, his arms restrained by Jeremy. Gavin was holding Meg close, her face tucked into his chest. Jack hurried inside and knelt to meet Ryan's gaze.

He was mumbling incoherently. Jack tried to understand, asking questions about the scars on his face. "Oh dear god what happened to you? Your eye is swollen, your lip...! Ryan, Ryan are you-," she leaned in closer to observe, finally hearing Ryan's words.

"-should have let him kill me, should have let him, you should have let him shoot me _let him shoot me_ please just let him-" he was shaking, arms wrapped tightly around his stomach. He wasn't looking at Jack, he was looking through her.

"Everybody," Jack commanded. Her gentle hand caressed Ryan's face. "We need to get out of here." She caught a glimpse over Ryan's shoulder and saw the ripped up floorboards. It made her sick to her stomach when she saw a corner of purple fabric peek through the rubble. Bearing no more, she looked away and helped Ryan to his feet.

Michael was silent as they walked passed him and out the front door. His eyes were empty as he stared into the hole in front of him.

"We're going back to the base," Jack called to the Lads after loading Ryan into Geoff's car. "I suggest, whatever you do, that you don't follow us home."

Jeremy release Michael when he heard the car peel off. He dragged his feet as he approached the opening in the floorboards. Gently kneeling down, he reached out and ran his thumb along the zipper of a familiar purple hoodie.

"He's not here," Gavin breathed, looming over Michael and the hole.

Melted pools of candle wax stuck to the floor next to spent matches, a lighter, bloodstains, and roses. So many roses -some dry and crumbling, others more new- almost like offerings. A scene like a grave without a body, without remains. Just Ray's hoodie and tucked into the floor. 

"No," whispered Michael, "No no no...!" He searched through the jacket pockets, flipping it over and over in his hands. "It's not here! He took it-," Michael looked up at Gavin. "The DS..."

His eyes were so sunken. It's been a long and dreadful day. Gavin felt a pang of guilt run through him for bringing Michael into this mess. With what strength he had, he brought his friend to his feet and supported his weight. "It'll all be settled in the morning," he attempted to reassure everyone. "For now, we should get some sleep..."

* * *

First aid has been in Geoff's resume for decades. When Ryan was rested enough to be handled, he got work stitching his lip and patching any other injuries. "That kid really had it in for you, what did you say to him?"

Ryan was silent, just keeping his eyes cast to the floor.

"Look, I don't know much about what's been going on here lately. Maybe because I trust my crew to keep things sane on their own. Y'know, act like adults?" Geoff shrugged and blotted the next wound with rubbing alcohol. "But that's mostly my fault... I should do my job as a boss and see to it that everyone is cared for," he mumbled.

"It's not your fault," Ryan's voice was dry.

"Yeah then whose is it? Yours?" Geoff moved into Ryan's sights, forcing eye contact. "I'm going to ask this once, Ryan. And I swear to god and all else that is holy if I don't get an answer out of you I'll make you wish Jack was here instead," he spoke in that calm but commanding tone of his. "Two years ago, during the mission, did you... kill Ray?"

Telling silence settled like dust. Pain throbbed in Ryan's chest, his mouth parted slightly but was unable to form words. His eyes couldn't look away from Geoff's. For so long now it wasn't in him to talk about what happened.

"It's not that simple, is it Ryan?" Jack's voice could be heard at the door to Ryan's room. There's no telling how long she's been there.

"Jack," Ryan's head swiveled around to look at her and his stomach sank. In her hand she held the pink DS he had with him. She must have taken it when he went into shock.

"What is that?" Asked Geoff. She moved into the room and paced behind him, turning the DS over and over in her hands. Upon inspection, she saw that it had a cartridge in it with no label. Her thumbnail edged under the screen and and flicked it open.

A breath hitched. Her attention turned to Ryan, his hand extended towards her. The look in his eyes reflected fear. "Please... don't do that," he warned.

"What? Turn it on? Why?" She pressed.

"You don't understand-"

"Then help me understand!" Jack stepped towards him. "I am sick and tired of the lies, the deceit. Between you and the lads," she drew a deep breath, attempting to center herself. "Please, oh god please Ryan I'm so tired. What the hell is going on? Why are you bringing Ray into our lives again?"

"I'm sorry...," Ryan strained. Searching for words became difficult. Stress on his health started to catch up to him. He was becoming delirious.

Geoff placed a gentle hand on Jack's shoulder, holding her back yet reassuring her. "When was the last time you ate?" he asked Ryan. A short shake of his head was the only answer he could give. "Why don't we pick this up in the morning," Geoff sighed, looking at Jack. "We won't let him out of our sight, I promise."

The mood in the air shifted and the three were pulled into an embrace. Ryan's weak grip wrapped around his companions' backs, the frame of his body shaking. While unusual, the gesture was reciprocated. For the first time in two years everything felt whole again, even if only for a few passing moments.

* * *

Salty mist breezed up the cliff-side. Early sunbeams glinted and reflected off the ocean. Seagulls were just waking from their nests. Waves rolled gently among the rocks and city liter some fifty feet below the soles of Michael's feet. The air was crisp, the atmosphere cool.

Yet somehow he still felt like falling.

Approaching footsteps broke his stir of thoughts but he did not acknowledge them. "Oi," Gavin's voice called. The Brit stood a few feet behind his friend. "Figured I'd find you here. Did you sleep last night?" Michael remained silent. "...Right. Did you go back inside?" he turned to look back at the old house.

Michael shook his head. "I  can't ," his voice was low and lifeless.

Gavin stepped forward and sat to his left. A flock of seagulls flew overhead, their call drowned out by the waves. "You know...," he started hesitantly, "Ray used to come here all the time. It was his favorite spot, remember?" He looked at Michael. "In a way we're with him, being here. Don't you think?"

A warm presence gently settled to Michael's right, but when he looked no one was there. He felt an arm wrapped around his shoulders. He felt a lean against his arm. A wave peace ran through his being, and for a moment the trace of a smile could be seen on his face. "Yeah," he whispered. "Like he's right here with us."


	7. Chapter 7

What must have been the third pot of coffee that morning was running low, and it was still piping hot. Gavin balanced a tray of mugs over to the living room where the crew gathered around the coffee table. He settled between Michael and Geoff on the sofa, carefully setting down the tray. Jack poured a generous helping of cream and sugar in her cup.

Jeremy joined them after throwing open a window. "Dusty in here," he mumbled to himself. It was unusually warm for the autumn season.

Ryan pulled a kitchen stool in front of the television and took his seat. He kept his head tilted to the floor. Once everyone was settled and he had their attention, he started. "There's no easy way for me to dive into this, so I guess I'll start from two years ago. Ray and I were stationed to ambush a corporate deal. Their rivals contacted Geoff, Geoff sent us in. It was supposed to be simple mission..."

"Yknow... blamed myself for a while after what happened." Geoff, already half drunk and showing it, was emptying his flask into his black coffee.

"...The meeting was at noon. We left here to a warehouse where we were told they would be. After we reached our position on the roof, Ray took out his gun and-," Ryan ran his hands through his messy hair. His heart sank. A gentle hand rested on his knee.

"Take your time," Jack sympathized.

He drew a deep breath. "He... aimed it at me," his voice trembled. "I tried the coms but he had it jammed...~"

* * *

> "What is this about, Ray?" Ryan kept calm, staring down the barrel of a shaky pistol.
> 
> "S- stand up," Ray stuttered. His mouth was dry and his heart raced. His comfort was in his rifle, but his partner made a point in saying it was too bulky for a stealth mission. Either way, pointing his gun at his friend's forehead wasn't easy. " _I said stand up Ryan!_ "
> 
> "You don't know what you're doing," Ryan rose to his feet, his arms up in surrender. They locked eyes as Ray drew closer, Ryan sensing fear in place of confidence. Ray unholstered Ryan's firearm and threw it off the rooftop. With his hands close enough to his ear, Ryan pressed the emergency call signal on his com.
> 
> "It's no use," Ray's voice cracked. "It's dead. Yknow, tech guy?" He tilted his head and motioned with his gun. "L- let's go, down the ladder. Slowly."
> 
> "Ray please... you don't have to do this," Ryan paced towards the edge of the roof. He could hear the warehouse doors roll open. Slowly he climbed down the ladder. When he reached the ground floor he came face to face with two burly henchmen. "What the hell is going on?"
> 
> Ray joined them at the bottom in no time. He turned from the ladder and steadied his aim at Ryan again. "Follow them..."
> 
> Ryan was escorted into the warehouse. Typical stacks of boxes from floor to ceiling stretched out for rows and rows. Other built men lugged crates in from a truck to the right. A group of no more than 30 well dressed men and women congregated to his left. No one acknowledged them. He was pushed further in and lead to a temporary office.
> 
> "Ryan Haywood..." a voice inside beckoned. A man sat at his desk waved the henchmen away.
> 
> "Oh I wouldn't let them go," Ryan snarked. "You must know who I am so...?"
> 
> "Indeed I do," the man quipped. "Please, sit. Make yourself comfortable," he motioned his hand towards the seat opposite of his desk. Light only filtered through the doorway, causing the man's face to be shadowed by Ryan's body.
> 
> "Well I don't have time for that. Besides I don't feel too comfortable with my friend here pointing his gun at me. Which I assume you can explain. Who are you?"
> 
> "Why, just a concerned officer trying to... tip the scales of the law," he slid a badge into view.
> 
> Ryan tilted his head to read the ID. "Hm, what an honor," he grumbled sarcastically.
> 
> The man propped his elbows on the desk, lacing his fingers under his chin. "I trust I'm no stranger to the Fakes, Mr. Haywood," a grin graced his face.
> 
> "Shouldn't even give you the pleasure of admitting that," Ryan scowled. "The things you've done to this city even I wouldn't laugh at..."
> 
> He stood, leaning over the desk and whispering in Ryan's ear, "Who am I?" An air of arousal seeped from this man's breath. "Say it Ryan, _say it! Who am I!?_ "
> 
> Ryan kept his gaze forward. "You're twisted... Miles Luna."

* * *

"Wait wait," Jeremy interrupted. "Miles Luna? You came face to face with _the Miles Luna_ and walked away? What the hell did he want with Ray, or you?"

"Obviously we both didn't get to walk away," Ryan snapped. Jeremy sank back into his chair. "I'm... sorry," he sighed deeply. Silence settled like a heavy cloud. "Fear isn't something I feel often... I felt it that day. I felt it standing in front of him. It wasn't just his reputation, you know?" He looked up from his hands, staring through Michael. "It was how he gets off on it. How easy he cuts ties..."

Butterflies swirled in Michael's stomach. The thought that Miles was involved with this was unsettling. Even though he was a man of mystery rather than notorious, the Fakes knew enough to conclude that his style was of a non-negotiable sort. No matter what skills he had, hiring him was out of the question. "Back at the storage unit," Michael started, "yesterday you... you told me you didn't know who killed him?

"Because, if I hadn't reacted... or if I'd stop Ray before we got inside I...," Ryan trailed off and hung his head. His hands balled into fists. "It took so long to convince myself it wasn't my fault. When you confronted me," he looked at Michael. "I started thinking again, that I killed him."

Michael's eyes fluttered from Ryan to the window, then cast at the floor. He fidgeted with his jacket zipper and sighed. "...So, what did Luna want with you?"

Ryan relaxed his hands and leaned back in his chair. "I never got the chance to figure it out...~"

* * *

> "Miles _fucking_ Luna!" He exclaimed, inches from Ryan's face. His hands were clasped around Ryan's shoulders. "Do you know why I brought you here?" The smile on his face didn't look like it belonged.
> 
> "The question was on my mind." Ryan was stiff. "But I have more questions for him than I do for you," he tilted his head back towards Ray, who had been standing idly in a dark corner of the office.
> 
> "Oh don't mind him," Miles waved Ray off. "Just a pawn, just a piece of my puzzle, to get to you!" His hands moved to Ryan's face.
> 
> "What do you mean?" Ryan tore away.
> 
> "A pawn, Ryan. _A pawn!_ Do you really think I needed him? See, look," Miles pulled a pistol from his desk drawer and aimed it over Ryan's shoulder.
> 
> Ray stepped back. "Boss?" His voice cracked. "Hey, listen I did what you asked! I brought him here, you promised you wouldn't hurt me!"
> 
> "Do I look like a man who keeps his promises? I don't even remember your name..." the words hissed through his teeth like venom. "I promised I'd make you worth something. I promised you wouldn't regret this!" Miles threaded a finger around the trigger. "I promise my pawns a lot of things."
> 
> Ryan reacted to the slightest twitch. The pistol fired as he pushed Miles back. Ringing pain throbbed in his ear. But the diversion was enough for an escape.
> 
> Working on adrenaline was like second nature. He turned and carefully caught Ray as he fell. The dash past the henchmen outside the office was a blur. He sprinted past the gathered aristocrats. He made it out of the warehouse. And he didn't stop running until they were at his getaway vehicle.
> 
> Their quick breaths were slightly out of sync. Blood trickled down Ray's chin. Ryan rested him into the drivers seat, pulling away to observe the damage. "Missed the heart, non-lethal but..." he held his breath. "You're loosing too much blood. I-... We have to go to the hospital..." They both knew the risks of bringing this to the public. Their line of work doesn't leave much room for errors, and with their coms destroyed, there was no on-hand medic.
> 
> "I can't... do that," Ray managed, coughing into his hands. "Not gunna make it-"
> 
> "Shut up!" Ryan panicked. Footsteps grew louder in the direction they came from. Men shouted incoherent directions. There was no time for decisions. Ryan tumbled over the hood and slid into the driver seat. "We're going to the hospital."
> 
> They peeled out of their hideout before Ray had a chance to protest. His wound throbbed as the force of the car pressed him into his seat. "R- Ryan..." his bloodied and shaking hand gripped Ryan's wrist. "I'm... so sorry..."
> 
> "There's," he blinked a tear out the corner of his eye, "no time for that. We've got to go-, you need help!" Blocks and blocks of buildings tore past them. The grip on his wrist began to slip away. He glanced at Ray, who's skin was quickly losing color. Distracted, he drifts into an alley and cuts the engine.
> 
> "Dammit! Dammit!" Curses spewed from Ryan's mouth. Burning tears streamed down his face. He was breathless.
> 
> Sobs and coughs gave way to rolling distant thunder. Ray barely clung to consciousness. "Can... you..."
> 
> Ryan looked at him through blurred vision. His head was in a fog. "Anything," he whispered.
> 
> "The lighthouse," Ray forced. "If there's any place I'd rather-," more blood coughed onto the dashboard. "Please... I need to be there."

* * *

The living room was silent. A stir of emotions passed through glances and sighs. Ryan was trying his best to keep it together.

"It was his last request. So... I stepped it. We made it up there just as it started to rain. Guess we were lucky to find a rowboat. Once I got him out there I carried him up to the lantern room," Ryan nearly broke his composure. "He wanted to see the sunset on the ocean but, the storm..."

* * *

> "Bummer... huh?" Ray's voice barely registered above a whisper. Each breath was labored and short. His head was supported in Ryan's lap and they both watched the storm clouds loom over the horizon. "Hey," he managed.
> 
> Ryan's red and puffy eyes glanced at Ray. "Yeah?"
> 
> "It hurts," Ray's body shivered. "There something you can do about that?" His quirky smile ghosted his face.
> 
> The gent shook his head. "All I have are lethal sedatives..."
> 
> "Ah, those'll work," Ray struggled to sit up. He turned to face Ryan, pulling his sleeve back. When he looked up he noticed the hesitation. "It's going to happen, Ryan. I'm... going to die. Please," he whispered. "I'm scared Ryan. I just want it to happen quickly."
> 
> Pain welled in Ryan's chest, but he agreed all the same. Who was he to deny a dying friend's requests? From his breast pocket he pulled a small syringe. Ray's arm trembled as he took it in his grasp and administered the drug.
> 
> A sigh of relief escaped the lad's lips as the first stages began to relax him. "Thank you," he strains. "This is... my fault. I hate I'm so goddamn gullible. I thought Luna could... save me. He manipulated my insecurities. The depression and..." his thoughts began to fog.
> 
> Gentle rain kicked into pouring sheets as high winds shook the storm panes. Thunder after lightning rattled every loose bit of the old structure. As much as Ryan wanted his answers, he couldn't bring himself to pry. "Just, don't worry about it," Ryan whispered, a false smile gracing his lips.
> 
> Ray moved to join Ryan's side, leaning against the base of the beacon for support. His breaths began to slow as the storm carried on. Gaps between lightning and thunder grew shorter and Ryan began to worry about their position. "Hey," he looked at Ray, whose eyes were closed. Ryan felt his wrist for a weak pulse. They both knew the drug would take its full effect soon.
> 
> "I'm sorry," they both whispered to each other.
> 
> A gentle chuckle gave way to coughing. "What are you... sorry about?" Ray asked quietly. "I... deserve this."
> 
> The last strings of life began to fall away. Soon every sound and every feeling became dreamlike. Soft incoherent mumbles escaped Ray's lips. Something about drugs. Something about the crew. More apologies. More chuckles. Everything pulled in and out of thunderous storming.
> 
> Then everything became a silent, blinding white.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long over due update to this fic of mine. As the plot thickens so does my life, so please forgive me! Updates will be slower but I'm still writing when I can.
> 
> So please leave your kudos and comments! I love to read your reactions, criticisms or suggestions/ theories. My supporters are so nice and keep me motivated to continue. Thank you, and enjoy~

Faded fractal scarring trailed from the back of his neck to his waistline, the rest hidden past his belt. Branches off his shoulder blades wrapped around his biceps like fingers. Almost beautiful, he'd admit, if it wasn't connected to such a tragedy.

"If anyone was to be struck by lightning and live, it would be you," Geoff mumbled, falling back into his corner of he sofa.

Ryan pulled his shirt back over his head. A slight flush rose on his cheeks when he saw the amazement in the lads' eyes. "What?" He mumbled in embarrasement. "We've all seen each other with our shirts off..."

"Yeah but, that's a real pretty scar," Gavin chimed.

"Hurt like hell," Ryan sighed. He adjusted his shirt and sat back down.

"Did Ray feel it?" Jack's concerned voice bit through her lip chewing.

Ryan shook his head. "He was-... he had passed by then. I- I think," he picked at the skin around his thumbnail. "By the time I had come to, the storm had passed~"

* * *

 

> Vision lagged and blurred as Ryan sat upright. Shards of glass slid off his jacket. When he centered himself he winced at the pain running through his torso. The bulb was shattered into millions of pieces. He checked his watch, then his phone. Both were dead.
> 
> Then he checked Ray. Hours must have gone by since the strike; his skin was cold to the touch. Ryan slid his hand behind Ray's neck. His fingers felt heavy patches of blisters like the ones forming on his own back.
> 
> His other arm moved under Ray's legs. While the body was light, he still struggled to bring himself to his feet. Vertigo threw his stomach nauseous as he stepped down the spiral staircase. Faced with the door he could do nothing but kick it open. It was difficult to walk on the slippery rocks outside, but he limped to the rowboat regardless.
> 
> A harsh fall to his knees shot pain through his system. He steadied his elbow on the edge of the boat and eased the corpse in. It took all his strength to push it into the water and climb in.
> 
> The lingering clouds cleared overhead, allowing the moonlight to break through and glint off the surface of the ocean. Slow waves crashed around him, rocking the boat gently, like a lullaby. Oh god, he wished so badly that he was dreaming. But the sting of salty mist in his eyes told him otherwise. Tears and seawater mingled into one feeling on his cheeks.
> 
> He waded in that rowboat for hours. From time to time he took to whispering to himself, or talking to Ray as if he was there. Screams of agony left him feeling numb. Prayers left him feeling doubtful. Conversations kept him centered.
> 
> An indescribable emptiest lingered in his stomach when Ryan finally drifted close to the mainland. Reluctantly, he stepped out and dragged the boat onto the shore.
> 
> There was no strength in him for a proper burial. He took his time taking off Ray's jacket, crossing his arms, and saying his final goodbyes. With a straining shove, Ryan sent the rowboat out to sea.

* * *

"...So he was gone. I watched him drift away until I couldn't see him anymore," Ryan sighed and shifted in his seat. "Emotionally draining as you'd expect, so couldn't face you guys after that. I brought his stuff with me to a shitty motel. But... that's not all."

"What do you mean?" asked Gavin.

Ryan pressed his lips thin and searched for words. "I... I could hear him. Not like memories or anything he-, like he was there," he shook his head. "For a few hours it was whispers. Then he spoke to me. I tried not to respond but, the loss was all too fresh. I wasn't strong enough," he trailed off into a sigh.

"I started wandering the streets just when dawn broke. I didn't sleep that night, or the day you guys found me... I didn't sleep for weeks," Ryan stretched his hands. "No one seemed to hear him but me."

"About a month later, you guys started talking again. You started laughing again. It looked like you were moving on. So I decided I should too. I went back to Cape Catfish. I put his jacket in the floorboards of that abandoned house. And when I left... it was over."

When Ryan concluded his tale the mood shifted. Everything was out in the open now. Of course, that only left them with more questions.

"Why didn't you tell us?" asked Jack after a beat of silence. "I understand it was hard but Ryan, you can't live with that. It's not fair! We're not just your crew we're your family."

"And that's why-"

"Why what? You couldn't trust us? What we would get in the way? Is that it?"

"No," his voice was irritated. "I wasn't ready to-"

"It's been two years! If Miles was after us-"

"But he isn't!" Ryan shot to his feet, causing the chair to topple over and land with a crash. "He's not after you, he's after me!"

Jack grit her teeth as she glared up at Ryan.

"I couldn't let him get to you," Ryan said firmly. "All of you. If I said anything, and someone went after him...," he paused and sighed deeply. "We already lost Ray. I didn't want to lose anyone else."

The commotion fizzled out with a ringing silence. The tension dissipated and Ryan picked up the chair.

Jeremy cleared his throat. "So, the voices," he started, "A few months ago, did you hear them too?"

Ryan nodded. "That's why I left," he mumbled. "After the first year past I went back on the anniversary. Then every other month." He breathed and settled into the chair again. "By the time you told the crew you weren't sleeping well I was up there about every week. Mostly to escape, but his voice was there too. It-, he just... followed me."

Gavin's stomach twisted when he remembered the melted candles and dried roses left on the floor.

"After you guys moved his stuff to storage the voices stopped again. While you adjusted to being able to sleep, I adjusted to being able to think clearly," Ryan sighed. "But the weekend Gavin messed with that game console it all came rushing back. I guess I was being selfish though. When I caught up to you two at the storage unit, I just wanted to stop you for my sake," he hung his head.

"Michael, you deserved to know the truth from the beginning. All of you did," he added suddenly. "But you were taking Ray's death the hardest and... and I should have been there for you...," Michael exchanged a look of empathy with Ryan. "And so I'm sorry. Truly sorry," the gent said, glancing around the room. "I've given all I can tell you."

Emotions stirred among the crew as morning shifted to noon. A brief silence washed over them and it felt as if a weight was lifted.

"...Thank you," Michael breathed. "Thank you for telling us."

* * *

Everyone had dispersed from the living room to process. Most went to their rooms, Jack went to the balcony to smoke. Jeremy and Michael, both hungry, were in the kitchen ravaging the fridge.

"Michael," Jeremy said through a cheek full of sandwich. "How you holding up through all this?"

The other New Englander quirked a brow. "I'm fine," he stated bluntly.

Jeremy wiped a few crumbs from the corner of his lip. "C'mon dude, I saw the way you looked last night. You held a gun to Ryan's face like, for fuck's sake!" he watched Michael cast his gaze to the floor. "...Were you really going to shoot him?" he asked in a hushed tone.

No response came from the curly-haired lad. All Michael could do is ask himself- if it really came to it, would he have killed a crewmate? Over this? Anger always got the best of him. But he had to admit, stepping out of the situation now he realized, he may have over reacted.

"Ray's DS...," Jeremy carried on, breaking Michael's thoughts. "Why were you looking for it?"

It took a beat for Michael to collect himself. "He told me he was in there...," he sighed. "I dunno what to believe anymore."

The two looked at each other. Jeremy blinked and reached into his pocket. "I know a guy," he started, "at B-Team. He can hack anything on the planet." From his pocket he pulled the pink DS and slid it towards Michael. "Anything."

The corner of Michael lips turned up into a smile. "Matt Bragg."

"Let's go pay him a visit. Besides, how long has it been since you've seen Lindsay?"

Michael's smile grew wider. "Too long."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short and sweet intermission to all the angst and drama. Hopefully it centers everything for both the characters and the readers... before the real shit storm ensues. 
> 
> Comments are always welcome and appreciated!

After lunch the two lads slipped away from the penthouse without detection. Even though Michael offered to drive, the small Bostonian insisted they take one of his brightly colored vehicles.

"Rimmy Tim-Timmy," He whispered excitedly as they entered the garage. "Oooh, let's take the monster truck! Matt would geek the fuck out!"

"Yeah?" Michael smirked. "Thought we were trynna be stealthy, not cause a commotion." He rolled his eyes and recalled the drama he and Gavin caused with Jack. "Man... that was only yesterday, huh?" he sighed.

"Hmm? What was?" Jeremy asked.

"This whole... _thing_!" Michael responded, throwing his arms into the air. "With the N64, and the lighthouse," he dug into his back pocket. "Now this? It's just... fucking crazy. Feels like weeks, dude."

An air of sorrow brought the mood down again. Jeremy shook his head, "You know... I wish I could relate. I mean what happened was a tragedy I know. But to see the team nearly fall apart over this-, I just wish I could help. Just wish I could understand. Ray...," he paused and collected his words. "Ray died over two years ago. Of course it feels like forever Michael. That kind of healing takes a life time. Whatever's happening here is stirring up a lot of repressed memories. And that's not healthy. That's why I asked if you were okay."

Nervous tapping of Michael's nails against the handheld filled the brief silence between them. "It's just-... I want to believe I can bring him back. I want that closure. If I could just talk to him, just ask him what happened... _what were you really thinking?_ Now this whole fucking thing with Miles too?" He grit his teeth and ran his fingers through his hair. "...Maybe I'm being too selfish," he let out with a sigh. "What Ryan told us only proves we didn't deserve to know the truth. At least I didn't... I only ever make things worse," he looked at the DS. "We shouldn't go. I don't wanna put the crew in danger."

"Hey- hey now, hold on. Listen, Michael, what happens if we stop now, huh? We go back to a normal life? Well, our version if normal... but you get what I mean it- It won't happen!" Jeremy drew a deep breath. "I see the way Jack beats herself up over Ray's death. You've noticed too I'm sure; the smoking, the crying she-... She was just happier before. And I could tell Geoff only had one thing on his mind last night when he drove us to the lighthouse. He doesn't show it but I know, he's been drinking more, missing more often. Not like physically-, just mentally he'll be _gone_. Gavin, Ryan- they both have their own way of showing it but they're both still grieving too!"

He gently grasped the taller lad's shoulders. "You _are not_ being selfish Michael. It may not seem like it, but a part of you wants to do this for the crew's sake too. We all need our closure... even me! I can sleep fine now but, hearing Ray's voice a few months ago still fucked me up. It was terrifying, he sounded..." Jeremy's sentence trailed off. Before he could recall the desperate cries for help every night he shook his thoughts away. "A-anyway, the point is a lot of questions surfaced when Gavin found the N64. The only way to find answers is to keep going. You're no quitter, are you?"

Michael kept his eyes cast to the floor. "No... I'm not," he mumbled.

"What was that?" Jeremy hummed, a smile playing at the corner of his lip. His grasp on Michael's shoulders tightened. "Do you need a hug to make it better?"

"You fucking hug me and I'll kill-, get off me ya lil shit!" Michael chuckled, pushing Jeremy away. "I ain't quitin'. Now let's get the fuck out of here before I change my mind."

"That's the spirit!" he responded, patting him on the back.

* * *

Michael's warnings aside, they were able to take the monster truck and leave the base undetected. Obscure rap music blasted from the radio as they gunned it down the freeway.

"Dude it's been years since I've seen Matt, years! Why don't the Fakes work with B-Team more often huh? Like one-on-one shit. We got the skills!" Michael shot Jeremy an amused look. "I-... I mean they. B-Team knows what they're doing," Jeremy scratched his nose.

"You really miss them, huh?" Michael chuckled. "Ever thought of going back?"

"No no," Jeremy breathed. "It's not like that. Of course I miss them, their dynamic and chemistry was just... addictive. But their work got too techy for me. Couldn't keep up, y'know? I rather be doing what I do with you guys. I like being in the field." He tapped the steering wheel and laughed. "When Geoff brought me on I fought so hard to bring Matt with me. Him and I used to be a duo, like you and Gav! Believe it or not Matt was the one to get us into all the trouble that we did. He'd have these elaborate plans and I'd just be like, whatever let's fuck shit up. Man, those were fun times. When I got promoted though, it seemed like he really wanted me gone. It pissed me off I-... we didn't talk for a while," Jeremy bit his lip. "Didn't take long to realize we just had different skills y'know? I got over it. He belonged with B-Team and I belonged here, with you guys!"

Michael nodded and looked at Jeremy. The kid's grown a lot since they put him on B-Team some three, four years ago. And in the last year and a half with the Fakes he's proven everyone who's ever doubted him wrong, including Michael. He always thought the short twerp couldn't run with them. And the crew had everyone they ever needed, six was the perfect size. Things only got worse for him when Ray passed, he avoided Jeremy as much as he could, and he knew the kid didn't deserve that. "Thanks Lil J," Michael huffed, turning away to look out the passenger window. "For like, existing and stuff. You really... you brought that B-Team chemistry with you to the Fakes. Think I speak for everyone when I say we appreciate that."

A bright smile plastered Jeremy's face. "I couldn't be happier," he chuckled.

* * *

B-Team's base wasn't far; the two arrived just around 1:45. They parked a little ways off. Michael's suggestion in case Jack sent another crew mate to track them. Although it seemed the coast was clear, they decided to walk the rest of the way.

"Damn," Michael shook his head, "B-Team lives in the real shitty part of Los Santos don't they? Ya miss _that_ Lil J?"

"Eh, not really no," he replied, avoiding a freshly spat piece of gum on the sidewalk. "But I guess I got too comfortable with the lavish lifestyle the Fakes have huh?"

"Geoff's a little stingy prick ain't he?"

"Well from what I hear, B-Team spends their whole pay on new equipment and technology. Y'know, a real _'it's what's on the inside that counts'_ mentality."

"Inside shit is still shit, Jeremy," Michael laughed.

Jeremy shrugged and pointed past him. "This is it, the alley way."

Michael peered down the littered alley and covered his nose. "A- after you..."


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was debating whether or not to delay this chapter. But I ultimately cave. I'm introducing B-Team into this fic, so let me know what you guys think! Kudos or nice, but I really appreciate your reviews - anything you have to say. Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

Rats scattered out from under piles of trash as Michael and Jeremy's footsteps echoed down the alley. The afternoon sun baked the smell of stale piss and rotting food. Flies buzzed in their ears as they approached a rusted yet hefty door.

"Fuck... gotta get Lindsay outta this shit hole; how does she stand this?!"

"Home is home, Michael," Jeremy shrugged. He gave two short taps and three heavy knocks, alerting the inhabitants of the rundown hide out who they were. Several mechanical clicks followed by a short buzz and they were finally inside.

It was like stepping into a different world. Neon signs and black velveted carpeting struck a nostalgic nerve in Jeremy's bones. He couldn't help but smile when he saw the line of arcade machines off to the left. Rows of desks like an office juxtaposed with bean bags and water guns stretched out before them. And of course there was there was the ever present whir of machinery and the latest technology. At least three small robots rolled past them already, one probably being a Roomba on duty.

"Michael?"

"Lindsay!" The two stumbled into a long overdue embrace. "Shit honey I'm so happy to see you..."

"Me too where the hell have you been?" Lindsay leaned back to take a good look at his face. "You look like shit, son. Fix ya face."

"Fix yours," he chuckled, squishing and pulling at her cheeks. "I'm going to get you out of this place hun, you hear?"

The blonde shrugged. "I honestly don't mind it."

Jeremy smirked and shook his head. He stepped further into the base, slowly taking in every change and every memory that has happened here. Two years felt like a lifetime away from B-Team. When he reached the hallway where his old bedroom was his heart skipped a beat. Was it repurposed? Did someone else move in? He stood there and contemplated if he should see for himself.

"Welcome back."

Jeremy jumped out of his skin. The voice came from right over his shoulder. "Fuck you!" he breathed. "...Matt!"

Matt gave a short wave. A few hairs slipped from his messy ponytail. "Good to see you too, squirt," he chuckled, warranting a jab in the arm. "But as much as I'd like to believe you're just visiting, coming with Michael tells me something else is up..." Matt nodded in Michael's direction.

"Hm? What makes you say that?"

"He's been texting Lindsay, duh." He rolled his eyes and dug for a Twix in his hoodie pocket. "Something about Ray? Isn't he dead?"

"You're so fucking insensitive!" Jeremy hushed. "But... yeah, it's a long story. Let's not get into it right now okay?" Jeremy looked at the laughing couple who hadn't moved from their spot in the door way. "It's taken a lot out of him y'know? Just wait for now. Besides, I wanna catch up. Rent my room out to anyone yet?"

"Nah," Matt started walking towards the kitchen, beckoning Jeremy to follow. "Trevor really wanted it though. Too bad you, just missed him," he gave Jeremy a short pat on the shoulder. "Mmh, Kdin left the team not too long after you did-"

"Kdin left?!" Jeremy's heart sank.

"Yeah, said she wanted to freelance. She keeps in touch though. But we hired a new face," he gestured towards the living room. Familiar gunfire blasted from the speakers. Sat in front of the TV was a sliver haired woman shouting profanities through her mic. "Hey!" called Matt. "This is the Jeremy I've been telling you about."

"Sup." She half-heartedly raised her hand and went back to playing.

"Don't be rude! Do you know who he's with now?"

Matt was completely ignored as the screen faded into red. She stood abruptly and threw her controller to the floor. "Fuck! You happy now Matt you have my undivided fuckin' attention!"

Jeremy flushed red and put his hands up in defense. "H- hi?"

She looked at him and tilted her head. "So, _you're_ Jeremy," she vaulted over the sofa and sauntered over with a spring in her step. "Charmed, tough guy. I'm Mica. Mica Burton." She offered her hand for a shake.

Hesitantly Jeremy obliged. "Nice... to meet you. Glad you're part of the team."

"Don't flatter me," she huffed. "You Fakes wouldn't exist without us."

"Mica!" exclaimed Matt.

"What? It's true! Lindsay practically manages them for fucks sake." Matt shot her a look. "Whatever man. Sorry I guess." Mica leaned in and whispered, "Next time you see your boss tell him we deserve a little more that half." She waved them both off and walked away.

When she made it out of earshot Jeremy sighed. "Wow, the attitude in that lady..."

"Yeah listen, you get used to it. Sorry about that. Super helpful though, especially now."

"What does she do?"

"Social media enthusiast. Runs a shit ton of accounts across all sorts of platforms. That kind of influence on the city is what we need in a time like this. You walk out there and you'll see; there's not a single person walking around without their head in their phones. Their lives measured in data. Hell, I can hack anything. But she can hack _anyone_. Remember those Wiki-leaks about the mayor last year that got him fired?"

"About the million dollar fraud or something? That was her?"

"Yup. Probably not even true. But she made Los Santos believe it," Matt popped a second Twix in his mouth.

Jeremy nodded, an impressed look shining on his face. B-Team has done well for themselves since he's been away. Even though he misses it, he doesn't regret accepting Geoff's promotion.

Footsteps shuffled from the hallway. Michael and Lindsay approached them hand-in-hand. "Been told you two have business with Matt," Lindsay addressed Jeremy. "Whatever we can do to help," she nodded.

Michael pulled the DS from his back pocket. "I'll fill you in later Matt. Right now I need you to take a look at this."

"Interesting," Matt took the DS, inspecting it closely. The unlabeled cartridge made him wonder. He flipped it open and turned it on. Nothing showed on the screens but stark whiteness. "Ray was hacker too right? Maybe he left something in here like a code or a-... like a parting message?"

"It's more complicated than that," Michael shook his head. "He's in there. He told me."

Matt looked at him with disbelief. "Ray is in here. Like, his ghost is in the DS?"

"I said I'll explain it later," Michael stepped forward, his tone defensive.

"Alright alright," Matt closed the DS and waved them on. "Let's get to it then."

* * *

Minutes later the four of them were gathered around Matt's desk. His setup was by far the most intricate: four monitors side-by-side on his desk, two other mounted to the in front of him. Cables spilled down the wall and into piles on the floor. Hard drives stacked in multiple piles. It was a neat-freak's nightmare, but to Matt it was his world.

He rifled around a desk drawer full of old USB sticks. "Never thought I'd use this again," he stated, plucking the Nintendo Wi-Fi connector from the mess. "This should give us a secure way in and... _whatever_ is inside a secure way out." He plugged the USB into his computer and opened the DS again.

Instantly the monitor was flooded with lengths of coding. His eyes darted from one edge of the screen to the other. "Well that's interesting."

"What, what is it?" Michael asked, leaning over Matt's shoulder.

"Well," he responds, pointing to the screen. "Dunno how much you know about hackers but, everyone's got a signature. Like a calling card almost. And that one is Ray's. Not unusual by itself, this is his DS. _But_ ," his finger adjusts slightly, "there's a signature here I don't recognize."

Lindsay shrugs. "So what? I mean I know you're good but do you really expect to know every hacker's signature?"

" _No_ ," he sassed, "That's not why it's strange. Based on how it's placed in the coding, it's the signature of a mentor. Ray and I learned from the same guy and _that's_ not him."

Uneasiness settled in everyone's stomach. Matt continued to explain other aspects of the code while Jeremy pulled Michael aside. "Michael...," Jeremy whispered, "hey I uh, I just thought of something-, something important."

"Wassup?"

"Two years ago, I mean Ryan said he heard Ray talking to him but, none of you guys could? Is that true?" Michael nodded in conformation. "Right so... why did _I_ hear him a few months ago?"

Michael threw his hands up. "Dunno, you get struck by lightning too?"

"No! Dammit Michael it's not only that, man... I mean was able to record evidence! I played it back on my phone dude, _you heard it too_."

They pondered the situation for a second, only to be interrupted by sudden darkness. Distant sounds of the base's generator powering off replaced the comforting hum of electricity. Matt's sentence trailed off into the silence. When the backup generator kicked up only the emergency lights flickered on.

"Oh god no," Matt sighed, his fingers flying over his keyboard. "No no no, not good not good!"

"What the hell is going on?" Mica exclaimed, sprinting from down the hall. "Matt what the fuck did you do?"

"I-, I ah I opened a door, in the coding I checked it, it was safe!" He stuttered. "It was safe there's-, there's no way it bypassed _everything_!" His fingers rapped on the keyboard. "All the firewalls and backups-, Mica you _know_ I have this place more secure than LSPD!"

"Then who did this? Who has the ins-and-outs of this place other than _you_?"

"No one! Fuck no one does I'm the only-," Matt stopped and looked at the DS. The stark white screen turned to static and was replaced with an image of a single rose. He ran his fingers through his hair. "But... _he's dead_ ," Matt whispered.

Like a wave every monitor in the base went from static to a rose, even the TV in the living room. All devices on the network were infected in a matter of seconds.

High pitch static rang from all speakers before cutting to synthesized laughter. **"A̙͓̳͕͈h̳͚̯̭ḫ͇͙̩̬̜̦-h̯a̼͕̣h͕a̜̗h̦̺̟a͔̫h̩̖͔̬̼̦ͅa̰̬h̰̤͎a͔͉͚̘̳a͓̩̱̲a͚͉a̠ạ͖̣͔͓͈̝ wo͖̝̯̩̮w̱͇͍ͅ!͙͍̞̜̞̟ ̻̼͔̦̺͓I͙̞͍̳͔t̠͇̖͕'̱͚s ͓̹goo̼̲̮̣̤d̞ t͇͕o̭͎͓ͅ ̱b̫͓͇̤̰̥e̩͔͉̣̼̫̖ ̖̺̖͖̙̫f͕̰̦͎̥̻iṉ̳͔a̰͎̞͎͖̗l̜̯l̤y ̰͚fr̮ee̼̬̺̻.̗̲̞̤̪̺̼ ͍T̪̞̞̮̖̜h̗͖͚͖̥a̬̮̲̰͓n̙k̭̬ ͖y̮̖͙͉̥ͅou͙.̹.͔.̮ ͔̮f͓̤̱̼͚o̦͔͓̰r̗̣̮̝̠̘ ̬̖w͉̗͔̱̪̣e̫̩̬̤l̜̦c͇͖̰̣̟o̳͍̫̣̥̩̗m̗̪̭̫i̗̩n̹̫g ̜̝̱̪ba̝͓͙͍͇̫c̤̥̜̩ͅk̤ ̪a̬̭̜̰̣̭n͕ ̜̬o̭̠̭͖͕̬̤l̮d͓̯̠ ̭͈͖̮̺̦̯f̖͉̪͈̙̠r̭̹̼͕̣̲ị̝͙̤ͅen̼̖̠̭d͕̼̫̣̘.͇̘̣̺̺"**


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After taking a break for a week or so I figured it was time to update. School and life was getting a bit crazy, but I'm always here for this fic and I'm always here for my readers! So please share and comment - I live off of your feedback, no matter what it is. So tell me what you like, what you don't and anything inbetween. ~Cheers!

2:37 PM  
Unknown Caller  
END -- ACCEPT

2:40 PM  
Unknown Caller  
**END** \-- ACCEPT

2:44 PM  
Unknown Caller  
**END** \-- ACCEPT

2:44 PM \- **END**  
2:45 PM \- **END**  
**END**  
**END**

**...**

3:05 PM  
Gavin Free  
END -- **ACCEPT**

"Boy? Boy! Bloody heck why didn't you answer? Where are you? Gotta get back to the base, you hear? Shit's gone mental..."

Michael's heart was in his throat. For a beat he gave no answer. "G- Gavin?," he hesitated.

"Uh, yeah?"

"Why were-..., never mind. I guess you're seeing this too."

"What the freaky tech malfunctions? And the voice? Yeah it's all kickin' off-, wait... _where are you_?"

"B-Team's Base," Michael sighed. "It came from here, whatever it is." Sounds of an argument filtered through the background. "That Jack?"

"Yeah, lost her damn mind she has. Says the DS is gone...," Gavin waited for a response. The silence was more telling. "Awh flip Michael, you didn't!"

"Listen, Matt's working on it okay? I need you to get the Gents down to The Hole. We'll meet you over there within the hour. Can you do that?"

Gavin sighed. "Michael what the hell is going on? That was Ray's voice or-... or something!"

"Go now," Michael instructed. "Please just go." He disconnected the call.

Suspicion stirred inside him as he thought about what Jeremy talked about earlier. The voice just now, is this what Ryan heard before? It wasn't quite Ray, but he was there. Why did he sound so sinister?

His thoughts were pulled away by Matt and Mica's panicked argument. "I have it under control!" Matt huffed.

"Bullshit! If you _did_ none of this would have-, uhg! I'm calling Trevor."

"Get him to track the virus to a source. Tell him to work from his systems," he called as she walked away. "I've got to get this contained before it spreads."

"Spreads?! Where the hell would the virus spread to?" Jeremy grabbed his head.

"Well apparently _our_ base," Michael sighed. "Gavin just called, told me it's there too. What the fuck Matt? Why do your systems run through our base?"

Matt shook his head. "It's easier and safer to keep everything internalized."

"Apparently not!" huffed Jeremy.

"Look what happened here just can't happen, it shouldn't happen! There is security in place that no one should be able to bypass and-... well they did! And now I've got to find a way to stop it before it goes further, so please-"

"What do you mean?" Michael, pressed.

Matt buried his face in his hands. "There's security checks at every level of information I have stored on our databases. The virus made it past two: Business and Planning. Business is the names and locations of all our partners, as well as past and current jobs or operations relating to them."

"So our clientele history," Lindsay huffs.

"Exactly. Planning, as you'd imagine, are detailed summaries of future heists, assassinations, jobs and miscellaneous or open ended business inquiries. Anything we have in the works. Any jobs we haven't completed. Whatever Geoff comes to Lindsay about, she writes up and puts it here. And as bad as that sounds it's not the worst of it." He sighed and returned to his computer.

Minutes of silence passed them. Lindsay took Michael's hand instinctively but he didn't move in response. Instead he kept his gaze to the floor, deep in thought about the situation at hand. He knew he fucked up. He knew he fucked up _bad_.

Jeremy noticed Michael's internal struggle and wanted to give more words of encouragement. This time though, the words couldn't find him as easily. He also knew they were in a bad ways.

A relived breath escaped Matt, bringing everyone's attention back to him. " Okay good, good. Right now this virus ain't going anywhere. The lockdown I set will prevent it from snooping further, but if got this far it's definitely capable of seeing through the rest of our walls. Hopefully Trevor can triangulate it and give us enough to stop this... whatever this is!" Matt threw his arms up. "I mean-, it fucking talked to us! What kind of virus does that?" He turned to look at Michael.

"Don't look at me, fuck! I'm just-... I just wanted my friend back okay?"

"Who Ray?" Matt stood abruptly, advancing towards the lad. "Listen to me, Ray's dead. He died _two years ago_! There's no such thing as ghosts. There's no hope for 'coming back'. And even if there was, even if Ray could be here again, you're not squeezing him through a fucking Nintendo DS!"

"Shut up!" Michael forcefully shoved Matt away, "You don't know shit about what I've been through the last two days Matt! He's talked to me, he asked me for help and I thought I could trust you with that!"

"Ray was my friend too!" Matt screamed. "But I got over it! I accepted he's gone, and he ain't comin' back. I don't care who did it, I don't care _why_ , and I sure as hell don't want to remember him like this!"

Tears were pooling in the corner of Michael's eyes. A soft hand rested on his shoulder and lead him away. Lindsay shot Matt a look of pity as she ushered Michael to her room.

She passed Mica in the hallway. "Trevor's already on his way to The Hole. No leads yet but he's working on it," she huffed, crossing her arms. "We should get going too, if y'all are done here."

Matt straightened his hoodie and re-tied his hair. "Yeah... let's go." As he reached to gather his laptop the monitors flickered again.

Static resonated through the base and the same coalesced voice came through. " **Y̪̞ͅọ̳͙̥̗̥ͅu̟'̙̙̙̝r̩̟͈̞ͅͅe̠̖ ͈̭͕on̦l̺̗̙͇̼̥y͍͙̱̦ ̬̺̪̗̺̗d̝̪̦̤e̲̻ḷ͕a̪͕̙y̜̞͕̦̝i̯̰̹͇̻̠͇n͓͍̻̬g̯̗͉ tḥ͙̫̙̼̹̩e ͇̱i͖͉̗̜̙̖ͅn͔͉ẹ̻̻͚̱̬ͅv̳͎i̮͖̤͚̮͇̪ṯ͎͍̜͙̣̳a͔͔b̰̫̘l̦͓̞e̪̼̬͉͙̞̞.̥̤̝͈ͅ** "

With a click the voice was gone. "...Tell the other two to hurry up," breathed Matt.

* * *

The Hole was a remote hideout, nestled in a cave inside Raton Canyon. It was founded by Geoff and Jack ages ago when they first started ravaging Los Santos. Supposedly once a nice secluded base, now just a dump that most of the crew has forgotten about.

City waste sludged through Cassidy Creek just outside the cave opening. Leftovers of small wildlife that squeezed under the makeshift door were decomposing inside. Any furniture was musty and wet. Any supplies long since stolen. And whatever power there was, depleted. Being as bad as it is- it still served its purpose: complete isolation.

Trevor had just got his portable generator running when Mica came barreling in.

"Sup skinny," she saluted, followed by the rest of B-Team, Michael and Jeremy. "The Fakes not here yet?"

"I mean if they were you'd be able tell. We're crammed in a two-by-two cell here," he scoffed as he began assembling his equipment. His quip warranted an open palm to the head, a gesture well overplayed and simply shaken off.

"Stop exaggerating," Lindsay chuckled, arm-in-arm with Michael. "It's cozy here. Quiet too," she breathed. While the constant buzz of gadgets and technology was comforting, at times the ambiance became too much for a woman of her style.

"Place is a piece of shit," Michael spat. "So is that dump of a base you stay at-, ya know what? I'm gunna fucking talk to Geoff. Get you to move in with us. Be great," he mumbled. Lindsay patted his arm, giving a silent acknowledgement.

Jeremy held his breath as he squeezed past the couple. He took one look at the damp couch Trevor was occupying and opted for squatting on the floor next to him instead.

Matt brought up the last of the arrival. Before he closed the door behind him he gave one sweeping glance outside. Paranoia was beginning to set in; he felt vulnerable. His security dismantled, his world infiltrated. It wasn't easy for him to grasp. Now the only thing to do was get to work. Reluctantly, he took the open space next to Trevor on the couch and unpacked his laptop.

"Find anything before you got here?" asked Matt.

Trevor shook his head. "Not much. Though strange enough tracking the virus wasn't hard. Took like five minutes."

"Well that seems like big news," Jeremy chimed. "Right?" He looked at Matt for confirmation.

"Doesn't help that it only lead me to this," Trevor spun his laptop around to show the group. "It's a streaming site called The Red Rum. Some sick bidding hit-man shit," he shrugs. "Why people like that would want to hack us I have no clue."

The same twisted feeling Michael had when listening to Ryan earlier resurfaced. Before he could ask anything, the door to the hideout swung open.

"Oi!" Gavin's cheery voice called out. Their small space grew smaller as the Fakes filed in one by one. Upon seeing Jack, Michael tried to hide himself behind Lindsay.

"No you don't!" the redhead cried, too keen for Michael's attempts. She approached him and pinched him by the ear. "After all I do to keep this family safe you go off and mess everything up! How dare you? Bringing B-Team into this and taking the DS- I outta put you out!"

Everyone knew it was best to keep calm in the wake of Jack's anger. Jeremy couldn't let the lad take all the blame though. "Jack please... he didn't take the DS, I did. This was all my idea," he hushed.

"Yeah and I mean-," Matt started, "I'm the one who hooked it up. Didn't have to help them..., but I wanted to."

Jack pressed her lips thin and let go of Michael. "This has seriously taken years from me," she mumbled, crossing her arms. "Don't think I'll forget this. But right now, would someone tell me what the fuck is going on?"

"All of our systems are compromised. Whoever activated this virus got past a number of security protocols. Nothing too bad for now. The most damage they can do is cut our business ties but, we hold enough reputation on the streets to make that a non-issue," Matt shifted uncomfortably in the sagging seat of the sofa. "Things start to get hairy after that."

"The next wall of information the virus can get to is our police records," Lindsay stepped forward. "Unfortunately our systems are coded in a way that once a lockdown is initiated, none of the files can be moved or deleted."

"There's no fucking override?" asked Mica.

Lindsay shook her head. "In case any one here became a traitor we wanted to make sure; if one person couldn't get access, no body could."

"Smart," Geoff mumbled. "Until a situation like this come up."

"Can't be too careful, boss." Lindsay sighed.

"So what's the next step then? How do we stop this?" Jack pressed.

"That's where I come in!" Trevor chimed a bit too excitedly. "Your resident tech-security officer here. I'm no McAfee or Norton," he chuckled, cracking his fingers and settling in front of his laptop. "I'm much better. You see, I'm only one in the crew outside the system. So... I'm the doctor, you're the patient. And calling this a virus would really be a misnomer. Viruses spread and, well, this one's staying right here... for now."

"No no, see that's what I don't want to hear," Geoff said. "For now? We're on our own grid Trevor- you can fix this locally."

"I can! And I will, I-... I hope. Geoff the malware came through a Nintendo DS, that's like handing a virus over on a flash drive. Not unprecedented but uncommon especially these days. Someone had to download it from their own system, and the fact that it acted immediately means they've been waiting. Watching us," Trevor shook his head and sighed. "Such a unique and complicated virus too; removing this won't be easy. Whoever did it has been planning this for a long time. And they definitely knew our servers inside and out. We could be their test subject. If they're not satisfied here, they can easily move on."

Uneasiness stirred between them. The cramped space didn't help their paranoia. Gazes shifted as everyone was coming to the same conclusion:

This was an inside job.


End file.
